


Afterwards

by songofsunset



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cooking, Gardening, Gen, I'm not sure where this came from but I'm going with it, The Well of Allsparks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-04-24 22:36:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4937761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofsunset/pseuds/songofsunset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatron takes up gardening.</p><p>After everyone makes it back to Cybertron, and the dust is settled, and the new government is firmly established, Megatron retires to the desert… and takes up gardening.</p><p>Starscream promptly takes up flying halfway around Cybertron just to laugh at Megatron while he’s gardening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is continuity mishmash generally rooted in TFP and MTMTE, and comes from me talking with a friend about what sort of ending I wanted to happen to Megatron.
> 
> Enjoy! (and pffft, lemmie know what you think)

Megatron takes up gardening.

After everyone makes it back to Cybertron, and the dust is settled, and the new government is firmly established, Megatron retires to the desert… and takes up gardening.

Starscream promptly takes up flying halfway around Cybertron just to laugh at Megatron while he’s gardening.

Shortly thereafter, Megatron takes up the hobby of dropping subtle hints about the fact that they are _“-in the middle of nowhere, Starscream, and if you were to meet an… unfortunate accident on your way back-”_ and here, Megatron smiles and hefts a glitteringly sharp gardening spade _“-no one would ever find your body.”_

Starscream is suddenly so very busy with politics that he simply can’t find time to visit, so very sorry Megatron, the people come first you know how it is.

Megatron’s cyber-squash harvest is excellent that vorn.

\-----

Every once in a while a school group comes through, as per his agreement with the council, and Megatron does his best to glower and growl at them in a manner befitting the mech who almost singlehandedly brought about the end of their race.

Sometimes the mechlings flinch back with delighted giggles and cling to each other for protection.

Sometimes the teachers- the older ones, the ones who remember- frown at him, eyeing him warily.

…Sometimes the younger teachers- the post-war ones, the ones who have never hidden from a bomb or  driven through a war-scorched wasteland or watched their comrade’s sparks stutter and fail as they lie in a pool of their own congealed energon- sometimes those teachers smile indulgently at his antics, laughing and telling their class to ‘say goodbye to the nice old mech, kidlets, we need to be going to Iacon to visit the memorial statues, and don’t you want the goodies I promised you afterwards?’ Megatron is never sure if this feels like a victory.

On his worst days, though, he sits in his armchair dead-eyed, barely acknowledging the passage of the world around him. The children who visit on these days stare at him silently, solemn in the face of something they don’t quite understand.

These are the children who grow up wondering what the war was really like, if there was more to their history than the list of the dead and the memorial statues in every city, more to it than the parades each vorn on the anniversary of the peace.

More children in those handful of classes become historians than in any other group.

Sometimes, when they are older, they come back and ask him for interviews. He takes them out back, teaches them how to garden, shows them how to pull out the weeds and prune the bushes, shows them how to grind the dead things into compost, how to use that compost to help the things that are living to grow-

Sometimes they understand.

\-----

Optimus visits him sometimes, for reasons Megatron cannot quite comprehend.

They try to play chess.

They _try_ to play chess, but it turn out that Optimus Prime is _shit_ at chess.

It’s not that he can’t play- no, Optimus knows all the rules, and is actually quite clever at it. It’s just that he’s too much… _himself_ to be any good.

Megatron sets up the board, and within a handful of moves Optimus starts getting teary-eyed over the peril he’s sending his pawns into, frowns at each capture like it’s a weight sitting on his heart.

“Your sacrifice will be remembered,” he says as Megatron takes out his priest with a knight. “You were brave and noble and fought well, and your comrades and I will strive to avenge your-“

“Oh for the love of Primus” Megatron growls, and extends a finger to knock over his king.

They mostly play Go Fish after that.

\-----

Optimus has an escort each time he visits- no, you can’t be having the Hero of Cybertron alone with the Evil Megatron in a house in the middle of the desert- what if something happens? What if Optimus dies? Suspiciously! In a suspicious manner that would in no way imply that Megatron the Ex-Warlord who Has Been Allowed to Continue to Function on Conditions of Historical Preservation and Staying the Fuck Away From Everyone Else had done anything illegal or unfortunate!

Megatron thinks this is ridiculous. If he was going to kill Optimus, he would have done it during the war or while Optimus was still the Prime, sometime when it would have made some sort of a difference. He’s not about to kill the only company (rival? friend?) he has left, but every time Optimus comes to visit, there is always someone with him to make sure he leaves in as good a condition as he arrived.

Megatron can’t fault them for their care, but it still annoys the scrap out of him.

This particular escort, a blue and white police mech, refuses to come into the house, standing outside the doorway as per regulations, monitoring Optimus’s signal and ready at all times to intervene at the first sign of trouble.

Optimus takes a moment in between telling Megatron stories about the younglings at the center where he volunteers and asking Megatron if he has any fives (Megatron doesn’t) to duck outside and bring his escort a cup of tea and a plate of the energon snacks that Megatron learned to make, mostly because he knows Optimus enjoys them. “Here you are, Strongarm,” Optimus says, handing her the tray. “I was worried you might be hungry out here so I brought you some of Megatron’s energon goodies and something to drink. I added a spoonful of arsenic to the tea, I hope that's okay.”

Strongarm stares at the tray of food (created by the enemy), stares at the mech handing it to her (freaking Optimus the former Prime himself), and nearly glitches out her vocalizer (and maybe her processor) before she manages to take the tray and choke out a strained “Thank you, Sir.” Optimus smiles, gratified.

Inside, Megatron puts his face in his hands and thinks fatalistic thoughts about how in the pit he ever lost a _single battle_ to this mech- seriously, what the slag. When Optimus returns a moment later, Megatron is still holding his head in his hands. Optimus tries to ask him if he’s okay, but Megatron just grits out a strained “Go Fish.”

When Optimus and his escort leave, Megatron nods in approval when he notices that, while the escort might have sipped some of the rust tea, she hadn’t eaten any of the energon goodies at all.

A good head on her shoulders, that bot, careful about regulations and unwilling to bend. A good defense for Optimus and- Megatron narrows his eyes, considering for a moment, then grins sharply- possibly an excellent source of entertainment.

Megatron links up to the datanet under his council-monitored account, and starts researching recipes, chuckling as he imagines what the bots monitoring him will try to make of this.

If he makes them hungry during a long shift, he’ll consider it good enough.

\------

Optimus is bemused to note that Megatron’s snacks are growing more elaborate over time.

It starts with a handful of rust sticks next to the energon goodies, clearly a work in progress, but improving each time. Then it progresses to silica crunches, and glittering gold-filled slushes, then to energon puffs and crystal jellies and elaborately sculpted candies.

Optimus raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment on the progression, simply complementing Megatron on the skill of the goodies and their flavor and bringing out a plate for whichever mech is escorting him that orn. Aside from Strongarm they tend to eat the treats with enthusiasm, often calling inside to give their complements to the chef, much to Optimus and Megatron’s amusement.

It is on an orn when Megatron makes delicate pink energon puffs, sprinkled with copper, that Strongarm finally cracks. She had recharged poorly and has been underfueled all orn and- can’t keep her optics off the goodies. Can’t help but imagine what they’d taste like.

She scowls. The regulations are clear but- maybe just one? No, what if it’s a trap? But then- wouldn’t it be a trap for Optimus too? She really ought to taste one, just to make sure it’s okay. Really, it’s her obligation to make sure that Optimus isn’t eating anything unsafe. No one has to know.

She picks one up and sniffs carefully, analyzing the scent for any poisons or incompatible elements. She glares at it, eyeing it for any suspicious textures or colors, then slowly sticks out her glossa to taste it, just a lick, just a test- and what she tastes is so delicious that she promptly shoves the whole pastry into her mouth. And another, and another, and- Primus in the pit, she eats the whole plate without stopping and is left with nothing but crumbs everywhere and a smear of pink on her faceplate, and when Megatron escorts Optimus outside and turns to take the tray as he always does-

“Ah, Officer Strongarm,” he says, addressing her directly for the first time in all the time she’s been coming here. “I see you enjoyed my treats. Was it the copper that made the difference? Or perhaps those perfect crust? I was beginning to think you’d never break.”

She glares at him, and Megatron smiles beatifically. Optimus shakes his head, smiling wryly. “Ah,” he says, “This explains so much.”

“Sir,” Strongarm says to Optimus, ignoring Megatron completely, “Let’s go.” Optimus raises his eyebrows at Megatron, then transforms and leads his escort back towards Iacon. Megatron chuckles as he watches them leave.

He can’t help but notice, however, that every time after that, Strongarm eats all the goodies Optimus brings out for her.

He makes the pink energon puffs regularly, and revels in her endless glares.

\------

Starscream fails as spectacularly at dying as he had at living, and ends up manifesting as some sort of a ghost. He is gleeful when he realizes his newfound invulnerability, and takes advantage of the opportunity to bother Megatron to his spark’s content- and Starscream has never been content about anything.

After vorns of screeching commentary about his cooking, his gardening, his poetry, and his lack (or Primely presence) of a social life, Megatron is nothing but relieved when they finally manage to get rid of Starscream once and for all.

The silence is blissful.

Megatron bakes three separate variations of energon pie to celebrate, and sends two of them home with Optimus the next time he comes over.

\-----

Time passes.

Optimus offlines too, eventually.

Vorns and vorns after the end of the war, Optimus passes to the Well, surrounded by his friends and comrades and mourned by the civilization that he saved. A holiday is declared and there is a week of planet-wide feasts and remembrances. Newscasters come knocking on Megatron’s door for the first time in a long while, but Megatron ignores them, ignores all their pings and com messages, just sits in his house in the desert and stares out at the horizon.

He puts away his cooking pans, eventually, and never uses them again.

\------

The vorns pass. Megatron lives alone in his house in the desert for a long time, scowling for schoolmechs and taking care of his garden.

Megatron reads about advances in technology, interstellar commerce, changes in culture so great that the Cybertron he would find if he were to move beyond his little house in the desert would be utterly unrecognizable to him. He becomes a footnote in their history books, a relic from an ancient conflict, and it never even occurs to most bots that he might still be functioning.

He offlines, eventually, sitting calmly in the same chair he once sat in and played card games with Optimus the former Prime.

It takes a long time for anyone to find him.

It is not a particularly notable event. The historian who had come to question him on some obscure detail of his past quietly updates the general records with a date for Megatron’s end of functioning. Megatron’s components are stripped, ground into dust, and released into the desert wind (who would want components from Megatron’s frame, after all? Better to be rid of them) and what remains is buried out back, next to his garden, where his cyber-squash still grows.

There is no ceremony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, the chess game they are playing is a Cybertronian equivalent that is so thematically close that it didn't need a new name (Also, I felt kinda dumb typing 'cyber-chess')
> 
> The Go Fish, on the other hand, is 100% the human variation, because OP miiight have gone a little native on Earth, and also he enjoys making Megatron squirm.


	2. MEANWHILE, IN THE WELL OF ALLSPARKS

Megatron onlined his optics and found himself floating in a great white void. All the aches and grinding that had begun to plague him in his last several centuries of life were gone- his frame was as perfectly functioning as if it were new, and his sensors were back to their full capacity.

He looked around.

“Is this- the Well of Allsparks? Did I make it? Did I finally do enough good in my life to make a difference?”

He felt a Presence nearby, and looked around for it, but could see nothing.

He took a few steps forward, though in such a void it was hard to tell if he even moved at all.

Something flashed in the corner of his optic, and he turned his head- and there, right next to him, where a moment before had been nothing but void, was an enormous crowd of mechs stretching out to the horizon as far as the eye could see.

There was Skywarp, there was Breakdown, there was Shockwave, and Soundwave, and Ironhide, and Ratchet- in fact, as he looked around at the impossible mass, he realized he recognized a great many of them. Many of them he had personally tortured and killed, and he had a niggling suspicion that he would recognize many more of them if they had been missing half their faceplates and covered in their own energon. None of them, he noted, were bots he knew to still be functioning, and all of them were eyeing him with varying combinations of anger and glee.

At the front of the pack, right in front of Megatron, stood Bumblebee, grinning wickedly.

“Hello Bumblebee,” ventured Megatron.

“Well hey there, Megatron,” Bee replied, crossing his arms and eyeing Megatron appraisingly.

“I don’t suppose you can explain what is going on here?” Megatron asked. “What is this gathering?”

“Oh, nothing much,” Bee replied. “We heard you were coming to the well of allsparks see, and we had ourselves a little chat about how to properly welcome you.”

Megatron braced himself, then looked Bee directly in the optics. “And what did you decide?”

Bee’s grin grew even wider. “Well, we decided to take turns, one turn each. It’s only fair, really.”

Megatron frowned. “If you need my apologies, then I have tried-“

“Nope,” Bee said, “No apologizing, only sandwiches.”

Megatron reset his optics. “Wha-“ he started to ask, but was interrupted by Bee’s fist colliding with his face.

Megatron staggered and clutched his cheek, looking up to see Bee leering at him.

“Enjoy your complementary knuckle sandwiches,” Bee said, “one from each mech you’ve ever wronged.”

Megatron forced his way back upright, settling himself to a measure of calmness. “I suppose that’s fair,” he replied. “Very well.”

It isn’t until the third time that Starscream cut in line to punch him again that Megatron lost his temper, and the situation very quickly devolved into ancrowd-wide all-out brawl.

Nearby, watching thousands and thousands of his children cheerfully try to offline each other for no reason at all, even in the afterlife, Primus shakes his head despairingly.

“This is why I stopped talking to you guys,” he groans, covering his face with his hands, “I can’t take you anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOLOLOLOLOLOL


	3. ALTERNATE ENDING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Harutemu in the comments on chapter 2 ;D

Megatron frowned. “If you need my apologies, then I have tried-“

“Nope,” Bee said, “No apologizing, only sandwiches.”

Megatron reset his optics. “Wha-“ he started to ask, but was interrupted by Bee chucking a loaf of energon-bread in his face.

"I want a tungsten on fine-grade with a dash of limestone, hurry it up"

\---

Megatron's servos ached. He had been making sandwiches for what felt like orns, all to exacting and exotic specifications.

"You want a what?" He asked disbelievingly. He didn't know the minibot in front of him. He definitely would have remembered that vivid orange color scheme.

"A ham sandwich," the bot said.

"An- energon-ham sandwich?"

The bot growled. "No, scraphead, I said I want a ham sandwich. A proper human dead pig and grass-powder ham sandwich, how hard is that to understand?"

Megatron invented deeply, and turned to find some........ ham.

\---

Circumstances devolve into an all-out brawl right around the third time Starscream comes whining back that "nooooooooo, the mercury can't be touching the copper and I /said/ I wanted the steel in slivers instead of shaved, that's just _wrong_ do it again-"

Megatron interrupts Starscream with a loaf of energon-bread to the face- followed by his fist.

Meanwhile, as his children aggressively tried to strangle one another, sandwich ingredients and punches flying, Primus gave truth to that old adage- Primus Wept.


End file.
